Author's Note: Several people wanted an epilogue. Word of warning, it is not like the book. In fact, it is completely different and only includes one, maybe two or three, reoccurring characters from the Dark Lord's Downfall story. I'll keep the disclaimer, but, honestly, there are no characters from the actual Harry Potter story used in this chapter.

Author's Note Two: A few months back I started writing Wikia pages for this story. You can find the link on my profile if you wish to find out more information, that probably didn't make it into the series. Or you can message me and I'll send you the link.

Several people have added me to their favourites since I finished this story back in March, and I have received many reviews since then too and I am forever grateful to everyone for it. You are all truly amazing.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs to Jo Rowling and Warner Brothers. I am merely borrowing them for my own personal enjoyment. I do, however own a small fraction of the story and half the plot. All OCs' and anything that is unrecognizable belong to me also. And no profit has been made in the making of this series.

Babbitty Rabbitty and her Crackling Stump.

A long time ago, in a far-off land, there lived a foolish King who decided that he alone should have the power of magic. He therefore commanded the head of his army to form a Brigade of Witch-Hunters, and issued them with a pack of ferocious black hounds. At the same time, the King caused proclamations to be read to every village and town across the land:

Wanted by the King, an Instructor in Magic.

No true witch or wizard dared volunteer for the post, for they were all in hiding from the Brigade of Witch-Hunters.

However, a cunning charlatan with no magical power saw a chance of enriching himself, and arrived at a palace, claiming to be a wizard of enormous skill. The charlatan performed few simple tricks, which convinced the foolish King of his magical powers, and was immediately appointed Grand Sorcerer in Chief, the King's Private Magic Master.

The charlatan bade the King give him a large sack of gold, so that he might purchase wands and other magical necessities. He also requested several large rubies, to be used in the casting of curative charms, and a silver chalice or two, for the storing and maturing of potions. All these things the foolish King supplied.

The charlatan stowed the treasure safely in his own house and returned to the palace grounds. He did not know that he was being watched by an old woman who lived in a hovel on the edge of the grounds. Her name was Babbitty, and she was the washerwoman who kept the palace linens soft, fragrant and white. Peeping from behind her drying sheets, Babbitty saw the charlatan snap two twigs from one of the King's trees and disappear into the palace.

The charlatan gave one of the twigs to the King and assured him that it was a wand of tremendous power.

"It will only work, however," said the charlatan, "when you are worthy of it."

Every morning the charlatan and the foolish King walked out into the palace grounds, where they waved their wands and shouted nonsense at the sky. The charlatan was careful to perform more tricks, so that the King remained convinced of his Grand Sorcerer's skill, and of the power of the wands that had cost so much gold.

One morning, as the charlatan and the foolish King were twirling their twins, and hopping in circles, and chanting meaningless rhymes, a loud cracking reached the King's ears. Babbitty the washerwoman was watching the King and the charlatan from the window of her tiny cottage, and was laughing so hard she soon sank out of sight, too weak to stand.

"I must look most undignified, to make the old washerwoman laugh so!" said the King. He ceased his hopping and twig twirling, and frowned. "I grow weary of practice! When shall I be ready to perform real spells in front of my subjects, Sorcerer?"

The charlatan tried to sooth his pupil, assuring him that he would soon be capable of astonishing feats of magic, but Babbitty's cackling had stung the foolish King more than the charlatan knew.

"Tomorrow," said the King, "we shall invite our court to watch their King perform magic!"

The charlatan saw that the time had come to take his treasure and flee.

"Alas, Your Majesty, it is impossible! I had forgotten to tell Your Majesty that I must set out on a long journey tomorrow -"

"If you leave this palace without my permission, Sorcerer, my Brigade of Witch-Hunters will hunt you down with their hounds! Tomorrow morning you will assist me to perform magic for the benefit of my lords and ladies, and if anybody laughs at me, I shall have you beheaded!"

The King stormed back to the palace, leaving the charlatan alone and afraid. Not all his cunning could save him now, for he could not run away, nor could he help the King with magic that neither of them knew.

Seeking a vent for his fear and his anger, the charlatan approached the window of Babbitty the washerwoman. Peering inside, he saw the little old lady sitting at her table, polishing a wand. In a corner behind her, the King's sheets were washing themselves in a wooden tub.

The charlatan understood at once that Babbitty was a true witch, and that she who had given him his awful problem could also solve it.

"Crone!" roared the charlatan. "Your cackling has cost me dear! If you fail to help me, I shall denounce you as a witch, and it will be you who is torn apart by the King's hounds!"

"He's mean..." interrupted a small voice.

Phoebe Blackheart, who had been reading the story of Babbitty Rabbitty, blinked and looked down at the small blonde toddler curled up beside her. "Yes, Anna," she nodded. "Yes, he is very mean indeed. Do you wish for me to continue?"

"Yes, please, Grandmama." Four-year-old Anna smiled, patting her grandmother's arm energetically.

Phoebe smiled and wrapped her arm around the toddler. She was a year younger than her mother, Faye, had been when Phoebe had found her nineteen-years-ago in Ottery St Catchpole, in England, during the second Wizarding War. Faye had become like a daughter to Phoebe, and the elemental had grown rather attached to the toddler, adopting soon after the war had ended.

Faye, who had grown into a beautiful young witch, had attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in 2004 at the age of eleven and had been sorted into Ravenclaw house, much to her Phoebe and Terence's pleasure. Faye had always shown signs of being a Ravenclaw. She had later graduated, top of her class, in 2011. A year later she had married her long-term boyfriend, Thomas Waverly and given birth to a beautiful daughter, Anna Waverly in 2014.

Anna was the diamond in her mother's eye, overly doted on by her whole family, and loved above and beyond by her grandparents.

Old Babbitty smiled at the charlatan and assured him that she would do everything in her power to help.

The charlatan instructed her to conceal herself inside a bush while the King gave his magical display, and to perform the King's spells for him, without his knowledge. Babbitty agreed to the plan but asked one question.

"What, sir, if the King attempts a spell, Babbitty cannot perform?"

The charlatan scoffed.

"Your magic is more than equal to that fool's imagination," he assured her, and he retired to the castle, well pleased with his own cleverness.

The following morning all of the lords and ladies of the kingdom assembled in the palace grounds. The King climbed on to a stage in front of them, with the charlatan by his side.

"I shall firstly make this lady's hat disappear!" cried the King, pointing his twig at a noblewoman.

From inside a bush nearby, Babbitty pointed her wand at the hat and caused it to vanish. Great was the astonishment and admiration of the crowd, and loud their applause for the jubilant King.

"Next, I shall make that horse fly!" cried the King, pointing his twig at his own steed.

From inside the bush, Babbitty pointed her wand at the horse and it rose high into the air.

The crowd was still more thrilled and amazed, and they roared their appreciation of their magical King.

"And now," said the King, looking all around for an idea, and the Captain of his Brigade of Witch-Hunters ran forwards.

"Your Majesty," said the Captain, "this very morning, Sabre died of eating a poisonous toadstool! Bring him back to life, Your Majesty, with your wand!"

And the Captain heaved on to the stage the lifeless body of the largest of the witch-hunting hounds.

The foolish King brandished his twig and pointed it at the dead dog. But inside the bush, Babbitty smiled, and did not trouble to life her wand, for no magic can raise the dead.

When the dog did not stir, the crowd began first to whisper, and then to laugh. They suspected that the King's first two feats had been mere tricks after all.

"Why doesn't it work?" the King screamed at the charlatan, who bethought himself of the only ruse left of him.

"There, Your Majesty, there!" he shouted, pointing at the busy where Babbitty was concealed. "I see her plan, a wicked witch who is blocking your magic with her own evil spells! Seize her, somebody, seize her!"

Babbitty fled from the bush, and the Brigade of Witch-Hunters et off in pursuit, unleashing their hounds, who bayed for Babbitty's blood. But as she reached a low hedge, the little witch vanished from sight, and when the King, the charlatan and all the courtiers gained the other side, they found the pack of witch-hunting hounds barking and scrabbling around a bent and aged tree.

"She has turned herself into a tree!" screamed the charlatan and, dreading lest Babbitty turn back into a woman and denounce him, he added, "Cut her down, Your Majesty, that is the way to treat evil witches!"

An axe was brought at once, and the old tree was felled to loud cheers from the courtiers and the charlatan.

"She's not dead is she, Grandmama?" Anna asked her eyes wide and interested as she looked up at Phoebe. "They didn't cut her down, did they?"

Phoebe smiled and brushed a blonde curl from her granddaughter's face. "Shall we find out together?" she asked.

Anna nodded and rested her head back on Phoebe's stomach.

However, as they were making ready to return to the palace, the sound of loud cackling stopped them in their tracks.

"Fools!" cried Babbitty's voice from the stump they had left behind. "No witch or wizard can be killed be being cut in half! Take the axe, if you do not believe me, and cut the Grand Sorcerer in two!"

The Captain of the Brigade of Witch-Hunters was eager to make the experiment, but as he raised the axe the charlatan fell to his knees, screaming for mercy and confessing all his wickedness. As he was dragged away to the dungeons, the tree stump cackled more loudly than ever.

"By cutting a witch in half, you have unleashed a dreadful curse upon your kingdom!" it told the petrified King. "Henceforth, every stroke of harm that you inflict upon my fellow witches and wizards will feel like an axe stroke in your own side, until you will wish you could die of it!"

At that, the King fell to his knees too, and told the stump that he would issue a proclamation at once, protecting all witches and wizards of the kingdom, and allowing them to practice their magic in peace.

"Very good," said the stump, "but you have not yet made amends to Babbitty!"

"Anything, anything at all!" cried the foolish King, wringing his hands before the stump.

"You will erect a statue of Babbitty upon me, in memory of your poor washerwoman, and to remind you forever of your foolishness!" said the stump.

The King agreed to it at once, and promised to engage the foremost sculptor in the land, and have the statue made of pure gold. Then the shamed King and all the noblemen and women returned to the palace, leaving the tree stump cackling behind them.

When the grounds were deserted once more, there wriggled from a hole between the roots of the tree stump, a stout and whiskery old rabbit with a wand clamped between her teeth. Babbitty hopped out of the grounds and far away, and ever after a golden statue of the washerwoman stood upon the tree stump, and no witch or wizard was every persecuted in the kingdom again.

Anna giggled. "She turned into a bunny," she said, wiggling her nose.

"Yes, she did." Phoebe nodded, closing the book and setting it on the table in front of her. She was sitting, curled up on a couch, in one of the studies at Blackheart Manor. She was dressed in her bedclothes, as was Anna, both of them shared story time every night in the study on the second floor and then Phoebe would carry Anna off to bed.

"Can I have a bunny, Grandmama?"

Phoebe smiled and looked down at her granddaughter. "What Bunny would you like?" she asked. "One like Babbitty?"

Anna nodded her head.

"If I grant you this, you must take him to bed, straight away, alright?" said Phoebe, drawing her wand. "Promise? He'll be very sleepy, you see."

"I pwomise." Anna said, eyeing her grandmother's wand. She loved watching her family do magic.

"OK." Phoebe breathed, twirling her wand between her fingers. She pointed it at the centre of the room, muttered a spell in Portuguese, and watched as the familiar shape of a rabbit started to appear out of thin air.

Anna squealed in delight and rushed to pick up the animal.

"Careful." Phoebe said, as the toddler scooped up the rabbit. "You must be really careful with animals, Anna, too much pressure and you can really hurt them. Unlike us, animals cannot say if they are hurt, which is why we must be extra careful in handling them."

"Like you do with Athena?"

Phoebe nodded. "Exactly. Athena is very old. She has been in my family for many years, but that does not mean she doesn't need respect and nurturing." She explained.

"I promise to take care of bunny, Grandmama." Anna said. "I go bed now."

She turned her back on her grandmother and headed for the door of the study, it opened, however, before she could reach it.

"Mum, you in - what do you have there, Anna?" Phoebe's eldest child, Blake, asked as he stepped into the room. He knelt down so that he was eye-level with his niece and reached out to pet the rabbit in her arms. "He's cute. What's his name?"

"Babbitty Bunny."

Phoebe smiled and shook her head. "What is it, Blake?" she asked, drawing her son's attention to her. He had obviously been looking for her when he had come in.

"Oh, I was wondering if you had seen Connor." Blake asked. "He needed help with one of his reports before going back to school, I'd said I'd help him, but he's not in his room."

"Have you checked the stables?" Phoebe asked. "He and Jayden were supposed to go riding before bed."

Blake nodded, remembering that his brother had said he was going riding with their cousin, Jayden during dinner.

Jayden Chamberlain was the only son to Aiden and Sarah Chamberlain. He had been born in Salem, Massachusetts in 2006 and attended The Elemental Academy in 2015. He was currently eleven-years-old and about to go into his third year at the academy.

"I'll check there now, thanks, Mum." He said, turning to leave. "Hey, Anna, you want me to read you a story before bed?"

"No thank yous." Anna said, walking past her uncle. "Grandmama already read me Babbitty Wabbitty."

Phoebe laughed as Blake chuckled and turned to look at her.

"I remember that one," he said with a light nod. "Goodnight, Mum."

"Goodnight, baby." Phoebe said, crossing the room and kissing his cheek. "Tell Connor and Jayden not to be too late. I realize they do not return to school for another two days, but if they want to come to London tomorrow then we have to leave early. Ashlyn and James are expecting us at 10:45am, which means we'll have to leave here at 10:30. Will you be joining us?" he asked.

Blake shook his head. "I can't," he apologized. "Dad and I are working at 9:00am, and Faye has a hospital appointment at 10, did you forget?" he asked.

"Of course not." Phoebe replied.

"You did, didn't you?" Blake chuckled.

Phoebe put her hands on her hips and drew herself up to her full height. "Sue me," she said. "I'm old and I'm cranky."

"You're not old, Mum," Blake said, reassuringly. "You can be a little cranky... but you're not old."

"You're sweet." Phoebe smiled, ruffling his hair. "Now, go and find your brother and cousin. I'm going to tuck Anna into bed. Has your father come home yet?"

"Yes, he's probably in the shower now." Blake said, heading towards the stairs at the end of the hall. "Sweet dreams, Mum."

Phoebe shook her head as he disappeared; she then turned to the door on the opposite side of the hall. It was painted purple, a colour that Anna loved above all others. There was a small golden pattern of butterflies on the front of the door; each one glittered every time their wings beat against the invisible wind.

"All tucked in?" Phoebe asked, sweeping around the bed.

"Yup." Anna nodded. "Babbitty Bunny and I are ready for bed."

Phoebe smiled and leaned over to kiss her granddaughter's forehead. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Grandmamma." Anna replied.

"Sweet dreams, my little princess."

From the doorway, leaning against the threshold, Terence Higgs, Phoebe's husband, watched with a loving smile. Even after all these years his wife was still as loving and gentle as she had been the first day he met her.

Copyrighted ©

A/N: So, who's gonna leave me one final review? Since I did write you all an epilogue. Also, I would like to say that I have started a new HP story, only difference this time is the fact that it is a crossover story and in the crossover section. It is called Search for an Alpha. I was kinda hoping that you'd all venture over to my profile, click the link and check it out. It's actually my first crossover story, and one that is not set in the Golden Trio era. It actually involves Teddy Lupin and my OC.

Check it out, pretty please?

Chapter written by xXxKaraBeckerCutterxXx

Chapter updated Friday, 14 June 2013 at 03:04am